Wicked Whispers Read online

  “Poof?” He couldn’t help it; he threw back his head and laughed. Murmur couldn’t remember the last time he’d allowed himself that much positive emotion. A sinister laugh was fine, and a wow-look-they’re-all-dead laugh even better. But this was neither. He hoped his master was listening. And when did you start developing self-destructive tendencies? “Yes, I can stay here all day if I want.”

  He slid into one of the pews, hooked his feet over the top of the one in front of him, and flung his head back so his hair trailed almost to the kneeler behind him. Ivy slid in beside him.

  “So what would you like to know? And, no, I can’t explain why I don’t want anyone to find out about the ogre. And, no, I won’t believe you if you promise not to tell anyone.”

  She watched him from eyes that measured, judged, and found him wanting. But that was okay because something else flared in those big brown eyes—sexual attraction. He could work with that.

  “When will you free me?”

  He could see how much she hated to ask that. “When it doesn’t matter anymore if everyone knows, or if I can’t keep Asima quiet.”

  She took a deep breath. Probably trying to control her temper now that he’d said he liked it.

  “What’re cosmic troublemakers?”

  “Exactly what they sound like. They’re supernatural beings who spread their own brand of chaos throughout the universe. For example: you met Edge back in the conference room. He was the cosmic troublemaker in charge of death.”

  She paled. “Then he was like you.”

  Evil incarnate. “Not exactly. He worked under a different management system. The Big Boss keeps a tight rein on the troublemakers. My master encourages every kind of excess as long as the end results are deaths or damned souls.”

  He saw the questions lining up in her mind. Why did he use the past tense with Edge? Why did he refer to the big guy down under as Master? All things she didn’t need to know now.

  “So you’re the ultimate rotten apple.” She sounded serious.

  He sighed. “The clichés keep coming. Humans don’t believe in gray areas unless it pertains to them. Demons aren’t a uniform army marching to the same wicked beat. Some are the ravenous monsters humans picture when they say the word. Others are varying shades of gray.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “I didn’t expect you to.” There was nothing more he could or would say to convince her. Not after experiencing Klepoth’s fun-filled trip into the past. There was nothing gray about that.

  She remained still for a moment. He liked that about her, that she didn’t have to fill every second with talk to keep her fear at bay. And she was afraid. He was an expert at sensing terror in his prey.

  “I was just thinking about what Holgarth said. He’s right. Fear has driven me most of my life. Fear that I’d be like Dad—drifting from job to job, ending up a burden to my family. Fear that I’d grow weak and fall in love with a man just like Dad. Don’t they say that women end up marrying men like their fathers? Now fear of this place. Fear of you.”

  Ivy took a deep breath. “And I don’t have a clue why I’m telling you this.”

  “So what are you going to do with all this fear?” The music was beginning again in his mind. Something liquid and lyrical, filled with joy and mystery. He allowed the melody to take form and breathe. When it was ready, he might play it for her.

  She met his gaze. “I’ll deal with it one monster at a time.” She met his gaze. “And I’ll never respect a man who steals my words from me.”

  He didn’t know what that had to do with fear. Why should he care if she respected him? For just a moment, he felt like telling her about the bargain he’d made with Bain. See if she’d respect the demon who was trying to save her butt. He resisted the urge. It was immature. And one thing he’d never been was immature.

  Ivy stood. “I think I’m through with my questions for now.” She bit her lip as she looked away from him.

  Something mean in him—yes, he was a demon, so meanness was a given—made him want to get in one last jab at her. If she thought he was a monster, then he’d say something monstrous for her to remember him by.

  “By the way, you might want to talk to your parents.”

  She glanced back at him. “Why?”

  “You were able to see through the ogre’s glamour. A one-hundred-percent-certified human being wouldn’t be able to do that.”

  Her eyes widened.

  “Exactly. I’d say you have your own little bit of monster in you.”

  5

  Ivy thought she could handle the fear, the panic. She had so far. Sort of. But this terror was different, personal. She could leave the castle behind her, forget about Murmur with his beautiful everything. But she couldn’t forget his words: You have your own little bit of monster in you. A rotten, lousy lie. Except that it didn’t feel like a lie.

  She needed to think, but not inside the castle. It felt like a living thing, gleefully watching as she drowned in her own uncertainties. Escaping through the great hall door, she paused in the courtyard to look around. Ivy shivered. Galveston didn’t get really cold in winter, but in February, when the wind was blowing off the Gulf, it was way too cool to sit outside.

  Then she spotted the small greenhouse tucked off to the side of the castle. Wrapping her arms around herself, she walked toward it. At least it should be warm for the plants and hopefully empty. She stepped inside. Finally, alone.

  “Hi, there. Can I help you?”

  Or not. Ivy sighed. She glanced at the woman standing among the plants at the back of the greenhouse. About Ivy’s age. Pretty. The woman had warm brown hair with blond highlights and big hazel eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know anyone was in here.” She turned to leave.

  “No, wait.” The woman stepped toward her. “Don’t let me scare you away.” She smiled, and it reached her eyes.

  Kind eyes. Ivy didn’t sense any scary things lurking beneath the surface. “That’s okay, I was just looking for a quiet place where I could sit and think.”

  The woman pointed toward one of two folding chairs near the door. “Feel free to sit and think all you want. It’s just me and the plants. We don’t waste a lot of time chatting.” Her smile was warm and her voice friendly.

  Ivy dropped onto one of the chairs. “I’m Ivy, Sparkle’s new assistant.”

  The woman laughed. It made Ivy want to join her.

  “If this is your first exposure to Sparkle, I’m not surprised you’re sneaking off to the greenhouse. You’re safe from her here, though. Sparkle is not one with nature.” She moved back to her plants. “I’m Cinn, Dacian’s mate.”

  “The vampire?” Funny what a difference a few days could make. Meeting a vampire’s wife didn’t even quicken her heartbeat.

  “Yes, the vampire.” Cinn didn’t look at Ivy as she examined a delicate fernlike plant. “I see someone has told you about the… specialness of the castle.”

  “If you mean did I dance with a demon on the beach, have a troll threaten me, chat with a couple of cats, and…” She still couldn’t talk about the freaking ogre. “I’d say, yes, I know about the castle’s specialness.”

  Cinn abandoned her plants and walked over to sit beside Ivy. She looked worried. “Which demon?”

  “Murmur.”

  Cinn nodded. “Of course, Murmur. He’s a spectacular man, and I understand his lure, but—”

  “I know. I should never dance with him. Holgarth warned me. But I didn’t die. I danced with him, and I’m still here.” Ivy didn’t understand how she could be so furious with Murmur for what he’d done to her and still jump to his defense.

  Cinn looked sympathetic. “You like him.”

  Ivy widened her eyes. Like him? Well, maybe. The same way she’d “like” a tiger. She could admire its beauty and power, but she’d never invite it to dinner.

  Ivy shrugged. “I suppose so. That doesn’t mean I don’t recognize how dangerous he is.”

  “I try not to jud
ge him.” Cinn’s expression turned thoughtful. “I mean, what would it be like to have no free will, to never love anyone or anything except your music? And that one thing you love is tied to evil.” She glanced at her plants. “I can’t imagine giving up my plants. But if Murmur tried to walk away from his master, he’d probably lose it all—his music, his power, and probably his life. Well, maybe not his life. His corporeal body would die, and his essence would end up back in the Underworld.”

  Put that way… Ivy shuddered. “His music. He has no power over how he uses it?”

  “I’m not sure. That’s something you’d have to ask him.”

  Wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. Time to change the subject. “What does it mean if you can see through glamours?”

  Ivy hadn’t meant to blurt that out, but since it balanced on the very top of her pile of terrors, she had to know. And who else could she ask? None of the others she’d met here. They all made her uncomfortable. Besides, there was something about Cinn that said she could be trusted.

  “You?”

  Ivy nodded.

  “Surprising.” Cinn frowned. “I’d bet Sparkle knew this when she hired you. Sparkle plays all the angles.”

  “I doubt it. There was nothing strange in my life until I got here.”

  “Yes, well, Sparkle has ways of knowing things.” Cinn looked as though she had personal experience with Sparkle’s “knowing.”

  “So, what does it mean?” Before she left here in two weeks, Ivy was going to have a heart-to-heart with Sparkle Stardust. Sparkle might not have exactly misrepresented the job, but she’d left out a lot of important details.

  “I’m not sure. It does mean that someone on your family tree was more than human.” Cinn bit her lip as she thought. “Not vampire or shape-shifter. Probably not demon, or else you’d have definite personality symptoms. Maybe angel.” She met Ivy’s gaze. “But my best guess would be that you have Sidhe blood somewhere.”

  When she saw Ivy’s blank expression, she explained. “Faery blood. The Sidhe are the beautiful ones.” She smiled. “Unfortunately, they’re also scheming, manipulative, and not too loveable. But they’re powerful. Very powerful.”

  Ivy’s heartbeat pounded a frantic accompaniment to her inner wails of no, no, no. All Murmur had to do was add a melody line and they’d have a hit. “How do you know all this?” What are you?

  “Because I’m married to a vampire, and he made sure to fill me in.” Cinn reached out to pat her hand. “I understand what you’re going through, Ivy. I was like you. I’ll tell you my story someday when I have more time.” She glanced at her watch. “But Dacian will be waking in a few minutes, and I want to be with him when he does.” Her smile said exactly why she wanted to be there when he woke.

  “Oh, sorry. It was great meeting you. I’ll—”

  “Wait.” Cinn stood and went over to the small fernlike plant. She picked it up and brought it back to where Ivy still sat. “Take Whimsy. She’ll make things a little better.”

  Ivy blinked as she took the plant. “Uh, thanks, but I’m not very good with plants.” It would take more than a plant to right her personal ship.

  “Don’t worry, Whimsy is low maintenance. Put her on your nightstand.” Her voice softened. “And talk to your parents.”

  Ivy didn’t even remember stumbling back to her room. She placed Whimsy on the nightstand and then flopped onto the bed. She wrapped the comforter around her, but it didn’t help. The cold was on the inside. Taking a deep, calming breath, she pulled her cell phone from her pocket and called home.

  Dad answered. Of course. Mom would still be working. But that was okay, because Dad was the one she wanted anyway. “Do you have a minute, Dad?”

  “I have an hour if you need it, honey. Time is the one thing I have plenty of.”

  She heard an underlying sadness in her father’s reply. Had it always been there? Why hadn’t she recognized it before this? Maybe because she’d been too busy feeling resentful toward him and his “voices,” blaming him for Mom having to work so hard to support them.

  “Dad…” What should she say? But she had to tell him, had to find out if she was like him. And he was the only one in her family who wouldn’t call her crazy for what she was about to say. “These voices you hear…”

  She could sense his sudden tension.

  “Yes?”

  “Do you just hear them, or do you… see things too?”

  The silence dragged on so long that Ivy thought he wasn’t going to answer.

  When he spoke, it was barely a whisper. “I see things too.”

  “Why didn’t you ever tell us?” She closed her eyes.

  His bark of laughter held so much bitterness that tears prickled behind her closed lids.

  “Everyone already thought I was crazy with a side helping of lazy. If I started seeing things too…”

  She heard the shrug in his voice.

  “It didn’t matter. No one would believe that I saw things any more than they believed I heard voices.”

  “So why are you admitting it to me?”

  His laughter gentled. Once again he was the man she might not have respected but always loved.

  “Because I think the same thing is happening to you, or else you wouldn’t have bothered to call me. I might not know how to make them go away, honey, but I’ll do my damn best to make sure they don’t hurt you.” He sounded fiercely protective. “Tell me about them.”

  She nodded even though he couldn’t see her. Tears slipped down her face. “It’s my new job. Dad, there really are trolls, demons, and other things. They exist. I’ve seen them and talked to them.” She paused to grab a tissue so she could head off a runny nose.

  “Why now, Ivy? Why are you seeing them now?” He didn’t sound shocked or disbelieving, just worried.

  “I don’t know. Maybe because there’re so many of them here, and they have so much power that they jump-started something in my head.”

  She thought back to the story Dad had told about when his voices started. He hadn’t mentioned the beginning for a lot of years. But who would keep telling a story when not even his family believed him? I’m so sorry, Dad. “You touched a live wire, didn’t you? After that, you could hear them.” See them.

  “Maybe that’s it. Both of us took a huge power hit, even if the jolts came from different sources.” He sounded excited.

  Now for the tough part. “Dad, was there anyone in your family who was… different? I mean, someone who never felt right.” She wasn’t handling this well. May as well come right out and say it. “Was there anyone who might not have been human?”

  Ivy heard him suck in his breath before speaking. “No one. I can’t believe you’re even…” Then, silence. Finally, he sighed. And when he spoke again there was wonder and something else in his voice. “My grandfather on my father’s side. I never knew him. He disappeared from my grandmother’s life before my father was even born.”

  “Any pictures?”

  “None. I suppose he never seemed real to me. My grandmother didn’t tell any of the family much about him other than that he was a beautiful, cold bastard and that she was glad he’d left. Dad told me he thought she still loved him no matter what she said.” Her father sounded distracted. “Dad never admitted hearing voices or seeing things, but he might’ve been smart enough to keep it to himself. I need to do some research.”

  Ivy’s grandfather had died years ago, so there would be no questioning him.

  “Yes, well, I just wanted to let you know there are now officially two crazies in the family.” She widened her eyes. “Please, don’t tell Mom.”

  “I won’t. She’d never understand.” His resignation sounded years old. “Your mother is a wonderful woman, but staying grounded is her obsession.” The silence built. “And I’m sorry I never handled things better, sweetheart. I pushed everyone out of my life except for the voices and the… things I saw. You, your mom, and your brother deserved better.”

  Ivy swiped at
her tears and focused on not sniffling. “At least you’re not alone anymore, Dad.”

  He sighed. “I’d rather stay alone forever if it meant you’d be spared this—a lifetime of pretending you didn’t see them standing right next to you, pretending you didn’t hear them talking to each other.”

  She wondered if he was wiping away his own tears.

  Then he was all worried-Dad again. “Do you want to come home? I don’t think you should stay in that place. I have a final check coming from the job I just quit. I can send you a plane ticket tomorrow and—”

  “No, I’m fine here.” Maybe. “I’ll stay for a few weeks and then if things don’t work out I’ll find another job.”

  “If you’re sure that’s what you want.”

  “I’m sure.” She stared out the narrow window. Darkness was falling. She would meet her first vampire tonight.

  “Then stay safe. I love you.”

  “Love you too, Dad.” She listened as he hung up.

  Ivy lay there a while trying to think things through. Maybe it was her imagination, but it felt as though curls of comfort were unwinding in her mind, pushing away the bad stuff, warming her from the inside out.

  Take Whimsy. She’ll make things a little better. Ivy glanced at the plant. Nah. She swung her feet to the floor.

  Just in time to answer the knock on her door. She paused with her hand on the knob. What might be on the other side of that door? She dismissed her fears. Any of the scary things in the castle wouldn’t have to knock if they wanted in. Ivy pulled the door open.

  Murmur stood smiling at her.

  How did he do that? The pure impact of him, from his shining fall of blond hair to the almost-imagined music in her mind, drove every thought from her head—what he was, what she was, what he’d already done to her, and what he could still do to her if he chose. All gone.

  “Sparkle wants us in her office.”

  She blinked, and it all came flooding back. She wanted her glare to freeze him into a solid block of ice, but she doubted it would work. He was way too hot to ever freeze into a solid anything. “Us?”